To Free the Silent One
by Googlepuss
Summary: As Alanna's blood fell onto the Gate of Idramm, a beam of power lanced up through the ceiling, giving Roger a clear path to Jonathon, and the magic he wielded. This is the story of what happened when Roger succeeded the second time.
1. The Coronation Gone Wrong

A/N: Hello again! I wasn't going to do this fic till On the Other Side of the Mirror was finished, but I've had the idea for a while, and so I thought: What the hey? I'll do it now.  
  
There are a few (but not many) fics where Roger succeeds in gaining the Tortallan throne. A really good one is Seat of the Magpie, by Aer, but under Kalle's name. But I've never seen one in which Roger succeeded the /second/ time. So I thought I'd try it.  
  
Disclaimer: This will cover the whole story. Everything (characters, places, etc) in Alanna's time belong to Tamora Pierce. Some characters and settings in future chapters (ie, 6+ years after Lioness Rampant) belong to me. Ask me before you use them, k?  
  
This continues directly on from page 292 in my version of Lioness Rampant, but because a lot of the stuff Roger says and dose in the pages before hand is important, and I couldn't think of anything better to do, I'm including everything from the bottom of page 288. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. My part starts when Roger calls the sword.  
  
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The tombs ended, opening onto a great stone floor. In its centre, a large, circular design - apparently of white sand - was drawn, its many curls and loops and whirls dizzying to see. On its edge, near her, was a splash of still-wet blood. /Si-cham's, I bet,/ Alanna thought as she gulped back a surge of bile. This was the variant on the Gate of Idramm normally used to summon elementals, a spell to drain off the Gift of anyone unfortunate enough to step onto it. This was also the spot where Si-cham lost his hand.  
  
Behind the Gate was an abandoned structure. Legend said it was a temple. Roger lounged there against a fallen pillar, arms crossed over his chest. The air around him was filled with bloody fire that glittered evilly on his black silk robe.  
  
He smiled. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me. You took longer than I had anticipated"  
  
Alanna prodded one curl of the Gate with her sword, to find the sand of the design was melted into the rock. White heat flashed up Lightning's edge; she yelped, pulling the blade away. He was scrutinizing her. Suddenly she knew why. The knight spread her hands with her old, reckless grin. "Didn't you know, Roger? I'm Giftless. There's nothing for your Gate to take from me."  
  
His eyes narrowed. "How did that - ah. Si-cham. Now I understand."  
  
"That's why your earthquake spell hasn't succeeded," she taunted. "Jon's stopping you. He's got the jewel, the crown, my Gift - even magic I bore for Thom. Which means he's stopping you with some of your own Gift."  
  
He shrugged. "So that's why I didn't have enough to bring this comedy to an early finish. It doesn't matter.'  
  
"It does matter," she snapped. "There are no more chances for you, Roger. You've bought an ugly death on Traitor's Hill. When it's over, I personally will scatter your ashes on the wind!"  
  
"You think I left any of this to chance, dear one? I had a long time to plan. You see, I wasn't quite dead when they buried me." She opened her mouth to deny it, but he shook his head. "If we had time, I would explain a powerful working called 'Sorcerer's Sleep'. For your purposes, I was dead. For my own-" His face was bleak, terrifying. Then he waved the mood away.  
  
"I planned carefully because you, sweet Lioness, too often escape me - you and my kingly cousin. He studied well, better than when I was his teacher. Where he got power that smells of the desert, I suppose I shall never know.  
  
"You saved yourself from my Gate, but you're tired. Come within my reach -" He smiled and picked up a blade lying beside him; it was bloodstained. "I need only lop off a small part of you, as I did Si-cham. That bit will give me a tie to your inner self, and thus a clear road to Jonathan and the sorcery he wields" Alanna paled and stumbled back a step.  
  
Roger put down the knife to walk to the rim of the Gate. "You've grown so prudent, it may be you won't allow me that easy way. Tell me, then - how long can Jonathan last?"  
  
"Forever!" Alanna threw it at him like a challenge.  
  
"Perhaps" He stepped onto the Gate as the energy whipping through the design tugged at his robe. Silver glittered against black; the Gates design was duplicated on his clothes. "If Jonathan musters no other sorcery against me -and all those who might make a difference are accounted for - I need only to wait." He came forward until he stood at the Gate's centre. "The Earth has her own means of dealing with unbearable pressure. She sheds it, redistributes it, expends it in small tremors. When she can do nothing else, she convulses - and continues to do so, until the pressure is gone. Even the gods cannot stop such an earthquake. Jonathan holds the land, but the pressure of my spell remains. How long, do you think, until that inescapable convulsion begins?"  
  
Alanna felt cold and alone. "You'll be just as dead," she croaked.  
  
His smile was frightening. "Indeed, I hope so."  
  
She gripped her sword, measuring her strength against his. "Why'd you tell me any of this?"  
  
"Because, lady knight, you will share it with me. Did you think I would end it without you?" He chuckled. "I'll tell you a secret. Years ago, when I was your age, just finding the limits of my power, I took up jewellery making. To each thing I made, I attached a bit of my Gift, to mark it as mine. Necklaces, rings - sword hilts. I even forged swords, to create a masterpiece of a weapon. Why you had to corrupt my design is beyond me."  
  
"It was warped."  
  
"You would think so. " He reached out, red fire eddying around his fingers. Voice soft, he said, "/With silver and stone I made thee; With Gift and blood I bound thee; With my name I call thee!/"  
  
Lightning jumped, straining toward Roger. If she had still carried his original sword, instead of melding it with Lightning for a whole blade, she never could have kept hold of it. As it was, enough of the crystal blade and its hilt remained to wrench her arms as Alanna gripped it. Her cold eyes met his.  
  
"It will come to me eventually," he said. "And you will follow."  
  
All her muscles knotted; the scars on her palms broke and bled. She dug in her heels and held. She held for what felt like hours as the ground trembled from the mini shakes. But the pull of the sword was two strong, and gradually she felt her feet start to slide across the floor. But as she slid, she knew one thing: She must not let go of the sword.  
  
It dragged her to him. She couldn't stop it. Maybe if she hadn't been tired from the fight with Alex, or if she still had her Gift, she could have held out. The sword stopped moving when it reached the Duke.  
  
"Alanna," called Roger. "Alanna, I'd like my sword back now."  
  
She had no strength left to fight him. She knew she had to make her exhausted body do /something/, but she couldn't. Dimly, she realized what must have happened. Roger had placed a light sleeping spell on her. It wasn't enough to knock her out; just enough to stop her from doing anything to resist him as he gently pried her fingers from the sword.  
  
"Give me your hand Alanna."  
  
"No," she mumbled. She was fully within the Gate now, collapsed at his side. He reached down and took her left hand.  
  
"You really have very nice hands, don't you?" said the duke softly, caressing it gently. "A pity you had to get them covered in so many scars."  
  
He held out the sword, and in a swift motion, cut of little finger. It fell onto the Gate.  
  
Clutching the ember stone in her right hand, she saw a band of power, of no particular shade, stretch from her finger on the floor, to her, then up through the roof, in the direction of the Hall of Crowns. Suddenly, another beam of power lanced down from where the other one ended, racing straight for Roger. Unlike the other one, this rippled with colours - sapphire blue, amethyst purple, darker purple, blinding white, pale blue white, yellow, and blood red. Alanna could name where they all came from. (A/N Can you?) The beam stabbed into Roger, it's force knocking him backward into the temple. Slowly, he stood up, smiling.  
  
He stepped back into the Gate, and pulled Alanna to her feet. "And now Lioness, we die."  
  
Alanna barely had time to register what he had said, when a giant earthquake hit the palace. /Jon can't hold it,/ she realized. /Roger's drained his magic, all of it./  
  
Debris was falling from the roof, and Alanna heard a huge crash from above. One of the upper floors had collapsed.  
  
The next floor to go was one directly above Alanna and Roger. Giant cracks appeared in the pillars as the weight above them shifted. Then the ceiling buckled and fell in, covering the tombs with fallen debris, large and small.  
  
Alanna's instinct was to run, to get out, to RUN! But Rogers grip on her arms was too powerful, and she was too weak. She caught a glimpse of his face, and what she saw there scared her. Roger was grinning like this was the best thing in the world, standing with the destruction all around him. Then a large piece of the ceiling broke free of it's supposts, and fell directly on top of the Gate, crushing Alanna and Roger.  
  
/This is it,/ Alanna realized. /This is Death./  
  
But as her consciousness slipped away, she saw in front of her eyes, a swirling design, silver white with loops and twirls spinning before her, a living Gate of Idramm. And a voice, a strong male voice belonging to the person next to her.  
  
//Aa' mente nauva calen ar' maltra alequenle! Aa' mente nauva calen ar' maltra alequenle! Aa' mente nauva.........//  
  
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A/N: So how did you like it? This is hopefully going to be updated a little more regularly than OTOSOTM, but, sadly, I've hit a wall.  
  
I've got the next two chapters written, but how to start the quest part completely eludes me. I'm aiming for something on the same level as Search for the Six by Lady Katherine Heartspark. I did ask her for help, but she claims she is never writing again, so I need other help.  
  
I need someone who will keep my ideas secret, and who has preferably written some quest thing before. PLEASE HELP ME!!!  
  
As always, review and tell me what you didn't like, so I can fix it up. Also review if there was nothing wrong with it so I can read you're stories. And especially review if you are willing to help me!  
  
I'm going to post this now, so toodles.  
  
~Martina 


	2. Awakening

A/N Wow, talk about taking a while to update! I hope you all like this chapter, cos it's the last we'll see of Alanna for a while. More about that next chapter. Anyway, R+R.  
  
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Alanna was cold. Cold and tired, though she knew she had slept for a long time. She forced her eyes to open. The world was bleary at first, but slowly getting clearer. She lay on a big four-poster bed draped with silk curtains in pastel coloured silks. The curtains prevented her from being able to see into the rest of the room. Looking down, she saw she still wore the same clothes she had worn the day of the coronation. How long ago had it been? She thought back hard. Roger had called the sword, she knew that, but everything afterwards was a blur. She remembered ---- pain. Roger and herself had been crushed by the falling rubble. So this was the realm of the dead? No, wait. There was more. Chanting, yes. Roger had been chanting. And the Goddess. She was there. Roger had made a... a bubble? It had covered the gods and then ---- then she was here.  
  
She sat up on the bed, wincing as stiff muscles cramped. Slowly, she pulled open the curtains, not knowing what to expect.  
  
Beyond was a large, comfortable room, decorated in the same pastel silks as the bed. There was a fireplace, but no fire burned there. There were no windows and no doors. On the floor was soft carpet and around the walls were bookcases and comfortable looking chairs. Large crystal globs placed around the walls gave off a steady light. She rubbed her arms, trying to bring the warmth back into them while she thought about what to do next.  
  
Just then a place in the wall opened like a door to reveal a smiling Roger.  
  
"Ah, you're awake," said Roger as he strode across the room. The door closed behind him. "You've been asleep six years you know."  
  
"That's not possible, and you know it," Alanna stated coldly.  
  
"Maybe not possible in the mortal realm. But you are no longer in the mortal world Alanna. In this room, anything is possible." Roger watched her calmly.  
  
"I doubt that," said Alanna.  
  
"Would you like me to show you?" he asked. He didn't say anything more, he didn't click his fingers, or make any movements at all. But suddenly the room changed from the pastel silks to a cold, hard dungeon.  
  
The floor was covered in grey flagstones, and she could hear the steady drip of water coming from somewhere in the gloom. Roger was gone.  
  
There was a yell from a place to her left, and movement she could barely she due to the darkness, about 50m away. The somebody yelled again, and suddenly Alanna recognised the voice. She turned and ran towards it, panic filling her heart. Lying on the dungeon floor was Jon.  
  
He was badly injured, a long gash running from his shoulder to his thigh, another across his face, a third down his arm. He wore his favourite blue tunic and a fine silver crown, both stained with blood.  
  
Alanna knelt over him, tears in her eyes. His blue ones flickered open as he shifted in pain.  
  
"Alanna?" he croaked.  
  
"I'm here, Highness."  
  
His eyes closed again as he struggled to breathe. "Why... Why are you here?"  
  
"I'm sure I don't know." She paused. "What happened?"  
  
"It was..." he took a deep breath. "It was Gary."  
  
Alanna recoiled in shock. "Gary?" Jonathon took another shuddering breath. "No, wait. Hold still and I'll help you first." Alanna looked for that ball of fire inside her that had never failed her, the thing that could save her best friend. It was not there.  
  
She mentally kicked herself. Of course! Roger had drained Jon when he cut off her finger, and her Gift along with his. She checked her hands. Yes, the finger was missing.  
  
/Okay, so I can't use my Gift,/ she thought. /But I can still help him. Hurriedly she slipped off her mail and her shirt, and began to rip it into strips.  
  
Gently she raised Jon's shirt and tunic, and hissed with sympathy. The wound was an ugly one. She bundled Jon's tunic into a pad and pressed it into his side, then tied it there with strips of her shirt. Next, she bound his arm, and turned her attention to his face.  
  
There was very little she could do here. She wiped away some of the blood, but she suspected he had a fractured skull. She glanced back down at his torso, and swore. The blood had already soaked through the thick pad. She could feel the life slipping away from him.  
  
"No, come on Jon. Hang on. Hang on!" Jon's only response was to groan in pain. Alanna felt a wetness on her cheek, and brushed it away angrily.  
  
His breath was becoming rough, as though every breath took a great effort. And then they came no more.  
  
This time Alanna didn't try and brush away the tears. Instead, she put her head down on his chest and wept. Sobs wracked her body. In her last few conscious hours, she had lost two of the people closest to her. Thom, her twin, her other half, and Jon, the first man she had loved, her best friend.  
  
She didn't know how long she lay there, sobbing over her friend's body, but after a time she became aware of another presence beside her. She looked up into Roger's smiling face. She tried to think of something to say, but there were no words, so she remained silent.  
  
He stooped down and put his hands under her arms, lifting her to her feet. "Alanna, Alanna, Alanna," he said softly, and leaning down, he kissed her mouth.  
  
Alanna froze. She went completely stiff in his hold. After a moment, Roger drew away, delight on his face. He released her, and Alanna realized they were back in the silk room. Jon's body had vanished from sight.  
  
"You might like to put some more clothes on," Roger said, moving over to a wardrobe. Alanna blushed, realising she wore only her mail leggings and breast band. He took out a beautiful gown of moon coloured silk, and held it out to her. She refused to take it, so he lay it on the bed before tuning to leave the way he'd come.  
  
"What is this place?" Alanna asked him, the last thing she would say in a long time.  
  
"This?" Roger laughed. "This is your own, private, Ordeal Chamber, quite similar to what young knights must enter, only this one, I control." And with that, he left.  
  
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A/N: And that's that! Whatdaya think? I must really give the impression of hating Jon. This is the second fic I've killed him in! Oh well. The important thing is, I don't, I just like torturing Alanna.  
  
Thanx2:  
  
Blue forget-me-not: Yeah, she was kinda doped out on a sleepy spell. I hope this chapter was better in that respect.  
  
Chibi Chibi: Not much to do? Chibi, I've got an epic planned here! (if I can find the time to write it!). And it will be semi A/R.  
  
Wildmage101: It's not really plagiarism, cos I'm not saying it's mine. And you'll find out next chapter.  
  
Princess Cora: OMG! Fan-art about my fan-fic! That's amazing! Thanks so much! Send it please! Oh, and sorry I've been slack with it. Lately I've been working on this one more, but I'll get around to it one of these days.  
  
AmayaNightRain11: They weren't typed! And then I typed one, and decided that really should be chapter 3, not 2! But the 3rd should be up sooner than this one was.  
  
Rogue kaiya: Sorta... And thanks!  
  
Okay, that's it from me for now. Remember to review please, and I'll update before the end of next week. I hope.  
  
~Googlepuss  
  
REVIEW! 


	3. 300 Years Later

AN: Okay, so chapter no. 3! Stuff is happening! Sadly, no Alanna in this one. I'm not quite sure when she's coming back, cos my OC Mira is really the central character now, but it might change later in the story. When she's done her task. What task you ask? You must read to find out!  
  
IMPORTANT NOTE!!! This is now 300 years after the books, so Bazhir girls are allowed to be Shamans and they marry about 18, not 13. Other than that though, their lifestyle has changed very little.  
  
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Mira was watching clouds float over the small oasis when it happened. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Why would it? As far as she knew, she was normal and average in every way. She had medium dark skin - not as dark as some, but darker than many. Her eyes were brown too, and her hair was black. She looked every bit the regular, 15-year-old Bazhir maiden.  
  
She didn't know why she had been chosen. Even the one who chose her was acting on little more than an instinct. But it happened.  
  
From her position lying on her back in the sand, Mira could see little, but hear everything. Even so, a small rustle of cloth was all that was heard of the woman approaching her.  
  
She was very easily the most beautiful woman ever, inhumanly beautiful. She had an ivory complexion accented by a full red mouth and piercing green eyes. Her jet-black hair hung unbound down to her slim waist. Mira knew her on sight, from the statue in the small shrine visited by all women as their monthly bleeding began. She was Kanajrana, Goddess of Fertility.  
  
Mira sprang to her feet and bowed in the fashion favoured by High God Roger when he visited the tribe. This was rare - it had only happened once in living memory - but all the children were taught from birth respect for High God Roger, for he was quick to anger, and punished mortals and Lesser Gods often.  
  
"Rise, my child," the goddess said quietly. "You and I must talk."  
  
"Talk, my Lady?" asked Mira, using the correct term for a Lesser goddess, "What about?"  
  
"About the past, the future, and the current state of things." As she said this, Kanajrana sat gracefully on the sand, looking out at the trees that surrounded them.  
  
"Couldn't you just pull a chair out of the sand or something?" asked Mira, not unreasonably she felt. Lesser gods could not inflict punishment as High God Roger could, and it was common knowledge that the Fertility Goddess was scorned by him. "I always though gods could do that sort of thing."  
  
"I cannot let High God Roger Know I am here. It has taken many years of planning, but I am now reasonably certain you and I can talk in private."  
  
"What about?" Mira repeated.  
  
"It will take some time," the goddess replied, staring into the distance. And with that she began.  
  
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About 300 years ago, things were different. Roger was not High God, but Roger of Conte, the king's nephew. The King war Roald of Conte, the Queen Lianne of Naxen, and the Prince, Jonathon of Conte. Past Prince Jonathon, Roger was the only heir to the throne.  
  
The Gods were who you now know as Lesser Gods. The most powerful of the gods were Mithros, god of law, now messenger god, and The Great Mother Goddess, god of women. These beings ruled over Tortall and the surrounding lands with fairness and decency. All of us are the children of Mother Flame and Father Darkness.  
  
Roger of Conte was unhappy with his position as Duke and Sorcerer. He wanted to become King of Tortall, and realized the simplest and most direct way would be to kill his Uncle, Aunt and Cousin. He devised ways of killing that made him seem guilt free, for he wanted no enemies. He told only a select few of his plans.  
  
And he would have succeeded, but for one young woman. Her name was Alanna of Trebond. You won't find her name in a book. Roger has made sure of that. She wanted to become a knight. Her father would not allow it, so she traded places with her twin brother. She one of the Chosen of the Great Mother Goddess.  
  
Only she saw through Roger. She saved the life of her friend the Prince on more than one occasion, and tried to convince him of Roger's treachery. However, Roger had placed a spell on him, and try as she might, Alanna could not warn him.  
  
Events reached a climax soon after Alanna passed her Ordeal of Knighthood. She found solid evidence of Rogers treachery and brought it before the King. Roger, infuriated, demanded Trial by Combat. Alanna killed him, and the spell evaporated. Everyone realized Roger's plan.  
  
Alanna's brother, Thom, became at eighteen the youngest Master ever, and the most powerful. One of Roger's supporters, Delia of Eldorne, realized how she might be able to use this to her advantage. She played off the pride of the young Master, saying if he were truly powerful, he would be able to raise the dead. So he did, and bought Roger back to life.  
  
Why he chose Roger is still unknown. Perhaps he thought a strong Gift would aid his own, or perhaps the influence of Roger was on him still. Whatever the reason, Roger came back, and this time he had bigger plans.  
  
The Queen soon died of illness, and the King killed himself out of grief. And on the day of the Coronation of King Jonathon the Fourth, Roger struck.  
  
He created earthquakes to destroy the palace, and a modified Gate of Iddramm to drain the Gift of all who touched it. He drained Thom of Trebond, Si-Cham the Old, Jonathon of Conte, and more. With so many Gifts under his belt, he was crushed to death with his chosen Queen, Alanna of Trebond, whom he loved and hated with all his mind. As they died, he cast a spell, to take them, not to the realm of the dead, but to the Divine Realm. He challenged Mithros and the other gods, using a cage spell he had devised while between living and dead. He encased us in pure magic. We would have broken out in time, were it not for the second Gate that drained us.  
  
He took complete control over the Mortal realm, from Yaman to Emelan, Sarain to Feldrook. He took control of the Divine, Chaos and Dead realms. Further than anyone else has dared to claim dominion.  
  
After a time, he realized he had no interest in some aspects of life, such as child birthing, coal mining, farming. So he gave a few of the previous gods the title of Lesser God, and put them in the places he found boring.  
  
Since then, he has ruled cruelly, with little care for his subjects wellbeing, and concern only for his own power. He is a madman.  
  
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Mira sat in silence for a moment as it all sunk in. It was hard to believe that people had ever not lived in fear on their gods, or that more than one god had major powers.  
  
"Which god were you?" asked Mira, to break the silence. "Before High God Roger came to power?"  
  
Kanajrana smiled slightly. "The Great Mother Goddess."  
  
Mira gasped inwardly, now aware that she addressed the previous equivalent to High God Roger. She swallowed, and asked, "Why tell me any of this? What do I have to do with it?"  
  
"There is one person who could restore peace to the world. One who could put things back to the way they should be." The goddesses voice was grim. "But she is trapped. You have seen her, in statues and paintings. She is the Silent One, the Queen of all Life.  
  
"To restore this world, you must free Alanna of Trebond."  
  
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A/N: I know there are wrong details in her story, but this is what she remembers from 300 years ago. I meant it to be like that.  
  
There's one bit I'm not happy with in this chapter, and that's how Mira immediately accepted the GMG's story and that she was a good goddess. She needs to so it keeps running smoothly, but I'm not sure I like it. What do you think?  
  
Thanx to:  
  
Socal-Schitzophrenic: Of corse it has a plot! Randomness? Does that sound like me? Okay, maybe that was the wrong question, but yes, this one does have a very interesting (I think) plot.  
  
Okay everyone, you what to do to make me happy! Press the little button down there and REVIEW!!! 


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